


Smooth Mastermind

by Prodigal_anon



Series: High School AU [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: High School AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-13
Updated: 2016-09-13
Packaged: 2018-08-14 21:28:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8029504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prodigal_anon/pseuds/Prodigal_anon
Summary: Cas tries to plot ways to run into Dean.  It's harder than he'd thought.





	Smooth Mastermind

     It’s a little exhilarating - Cas kind of feels like Danny Ocean or maybe some kind of spy, only instead of planning a heist or secret mission, he’s trying to maneuver himself into a place where Dean Winchester would notice him again. 

 

     He’s in the library again, mulling over a subtle way he could happen by Mr. Singer’s shop, and if so, what conversation he might strike up.  Ms Mills is grumbling to herself as she sets down a heavy stack of papers onto the table near him – out of the corner of his eye, he can see something about a two-wheel thrust, shims and parts, and he actually feels himself perk up. 

 

     “Are those for Mr. Singer’s shop class?”

 

     Ms Mills sighs.  “Yup.  Bob Singer can’t figure out how this ‘weird science fiction machine’ works and so he keeps asking me to make copies for him.  Like I don’t have enough work of my own to do.”

     “I could do it for you, Ms Mills,” Cas suggests sweetly.

 

     She smiles at him.  “Oh, Cas, you are a sweet kid, but you don’t need to bother.  You know I don’t mind, I’m just complaining.”

 

     “Oh, it’ll be fine, Ms Mills… I’m ahead on my homework and I was going to talk to him about possibly taking one of his classes next year.”

 

     She looks at him then, eyebrow raised.  “ _ You _ ?  Want to talk to Bob Singer about taking an auto shop class?”

 

     Cas fights the flush on his face and takes the stack from her with an attempted nonchalance.  “Yes.  I was thinking it could be a helpful thing to learn about.”

 

     She narrows her eyes at him, thoughtfully, and Cas hurriedly turns to the machine to begin making copies, but it doesn’t stop him from  _ hearing _ the smirk in her voice when next she speaks. 

 

     “Sure Cas, thanks.  Good luck talking to him.”  There’s a wink there, too, Cas is certain.

 

     This plan would have gone well if he hadn’t forgotten a crucial part.  Yes, he has an excuse to go to Mr. Singer’s shop, but when he steps inside the door, and thrillingly sees Dean sitting on the hood of some old and beat-up looking car wearing a very well-fitted Henley shirt and jeans, it quickly falls apart.

 

     Cas feels himself light up a little as he looks over at Dean, smiling slightly as the conversation between the two trails off.  “Hello, Dean,” he says.

 

     Dean raises an eyebrow and returns the smile, looking a bit surprised to see him.  “Hey, Cas.  What’s up?” 

 

     Cas opens his mouth – and realizes he has  _ nothing to say _ .  He’s forgotten to come up with anything to talk about and now, on the spot, his brain appears to have completely emptied out and is being filled with a gray fog, as his face slowly begins to flush red.

 

      “Um.  Nothing much.”  He tries frantically to think of some topic,  _ anything _ , to say.  “How… how have you been?”   _ Oh God _ .

 

     “Yeah, fine.  Same as always.”  There’s a definite note of amusement to his voice.  Cas desperately fishes around in his brain for something more, but gives up after an awkward moment.

 

     “Good to hear it.”  Feeling his face grow hotter, he turns to Mr. Singer, who’s watching him with an odd look on his face, and thrusts the stack of papers at him.  “Ms Mills sent me to give these to you.”

 

     “She did?”  Mr. Singer looks confused and faintly suspicious. 

 

     “Well.  I volunteered.  Because she seemed busy.” 

 

     Dean chuckles; a sound that makes Cas’s face flush deeper.  “Aw, that was nice of you, Cas.  Bobby – uh, Mr. Singer, probably would have left them all there forever if you didn’t bring them by.  He’s afraid of the Sheriff.”

 

     “Watch yer tone, boy,” Mr. Singer growls, before turning to take the papers from Cas.  “Thanks.  Saved me a walk.”

 

     “Um.  Any time,” Cas mumbles, before turning on his heel and practically fleeing the room, hearing two voices laughing as he goes.

 

     He spends a full night berating himself, but then wakes the next day determined to try again.  He’s elated to find a battered stack of shop manuals in the library’s store of textbooks to be repaired, and spends second period study hall and lunch diligently repairing them (he notices Dean and Sam again on his lunch break, wandering from the car to the lunch tables, with paper takeout bags from a local hamburger joint but doesn’t try to approach.  Best to have a purpose and an excuse).  During most of his classes he surprises his instructors by not participating; he’s busy committing to memory a list of decent conversation starters, which could include Mr. Singer so as not to be too obvious. 

 

     Cas walks quickly and purposefully to the shop room this time, feeling confident, and steps in with a greeting on his tongue, but –

 

     “Hello – oh.  Hello, Mr. Singer.” 

 

     “Hey.”  The older man nods curtly from where he’s sitting at his desk, feet on a low shelf cluttered with car parts.  “Dean ain’t here.  He’s watching his brother’s class play.”  He glances over at Cas and grins.  “Pleased to see you got my manuals there, though.  Set ‘em down on that table over there, will ya?”

 

     Cas silently complies, trying not to look disappointed or embarrassed.  “Just – wanted to help out,” he says, feebly. 

 

     “Right, right, and thanks.  You do my old heart good.”  Mr. Singer is grinning.  “Tell you what, if you want to stop by again tomorrow, I can give you these supply order forms to fill out, and you can bring em by-”

 

     “I probably shouldn’t, I’m sure I’d get it wrong,” Cas says through gritted teeth, but staying polite – Mr. Singer is a teacher, after all.  Even if he’s clearly teasing him like Ms Mills has started to. 

 

     Okay, so he was turning out not to be much like a Danny Ocean or other smooth mastermind, and more like an inept stalker.  It’s fine, though, he can keep trying.

 

     Ordinarily he doesn’t leave the school grounds for lunch unless a team project is having a meetup somewhere – he generally uses the free hour to do some of his homework and eats a sandwich from home.  But he thinks he’s blown it with the library time or Mr. Singer’s shop – both the faculty working there are going to be a nuisance now.

 

     So he can try to meet them at the burger place where they seem to eat.  A quick look at a maps app tells him that it’s a little under a mile away – no distance at all, unless you don’t have a car.  No matter, it’s only about a fifteen minute walk.

 

     The first time, he walks all the way to the restaurant and realizes that he hasn’t thought to bring any money with him to buy anything.  It hadn’t occurred to him because he never eats out.  He has to turn around and go back empty handed.

 

     The second time, he makes it there with cash in hand and buys his lunch… and eats it… and walks back, without ever seeing the Winchesters.  It’s only when he’s walking into the building and seeing the time/date sign over the principal’s office that he remembers it’s the day the brothers go to the diner on the south end of town because there’s a special on pie that day.

 

     Third time, the Winchesters are there – but so is his brother, Gabriel, unexpectedly, who immediately glomps onto him.  Cas spends a half hour praying that Dean won’t notice him and come over, because he’s certain that Gabriel would see a golden, sparkling opportunity to embarrass his little brother.  He escapes safely with his dignity intact, but is starting to feel discouraged.

 

     The fourth time, he’s in the line debating if he wants to take his chances on the Mega-Mouthwatering-Mexican-Mushroom-Mozzarella Burger, when he feels a tap on his shoulder.

 

     Dean is grinning at him.  “You lost or something?  The library is about a mile back that way,” he says, jerking his thumb in the general direction of the school.

 

     Cas smiles.  “Hello, Dean.  They don’t serve lunch in the library.”  Which is a  _ stupid _ thing to say.

 

     But Dean just grins wider.  “Is that the only reason you go out?  To get food and occasionally do Bobby Singer’s work for him?”

 

     Cas grimaces.  “That – was not a regular thing.”

 

     “He’s been complaining since last week about some supply forms and inventory he was hoping you’d do.”

 

     “Tell him I’ll consider it if he gives me elective credit for it.”  Cas places his order for the M5-burger, briefly debates getting Dean’s for him too, and decides against it.

 

     Dean orders with a bit of flirtatious banter to the girl behind the till, which makes her blush, then they shuffle of to the side to wait.  Dean nudges Cas.

 

     “Check it out.  Raining balls outside now.”

 

     Cas looks out the window and sighs, seeing sheets of water coming down.  “Good.  I was feeling too dry,” he says.

 

     Dean places a hand on Cas’s shoulder.  Dean is very  _ handsy _ .  “You walked?  Shit, Cas, that’s a long way!”

 

     C as shrugs, reaching over to retrieve their sacks of food as they’re dropped off on the counter.  “It’s not that far.  Only takes me about fifteen or twenty minutes.”

 

     “Yeah, but lunch is only an hour long!  And you’re a nerd, so you’re probably never late for class!”

 

     Cas isn’t sure if he ought to take offense.  “I don’t need that much time to eat?” 

 

     Dean has his hand on Cas’s elbow now, and is steering him towards the door.  “My car is over there, third one in.  Run for it; it’s not locked.”

 

     They run, hunched over their paper bags to keep them somewhat dry.  The rain hits them hard, soaking into their clothes.  Cas is extremely grateful that he managed to find Dean here on this particular day.

 

     Dean is muttering under his breath about weather and how it’s lucky he’s wearing his denim jacket today instead of the leather one.  He glances up at Cas.  “So, Nerd, you wanna go straight back to the school, I guess?”

 

     Cas sits there clutching his lunch.  “Don’t you, normally?  I mean, I usually see you have lunch with your brother…”

 

     Dean snickers.  “Dude.  You really are stalking me, aren’t you?”  Cas’s face goes from zero to reddish purple in an instant and Dean holds up his hands placatingly before Cas can stammer out a reply.  “Relax, Cas, damn, I was just kidding!  Yeah, normally I eat with Sammy.  But he’s on a field trip to some museum today and the chaperone’s dropping him off at home directly afterwards.  And since there’s the school assembly after fifth period, I wasn’t going to bother to go back at all.”

 

     “You were going to ditch?”  Cas shouldn’t be surprised really.  Dean makes a face at him.

 

     “You probably haven’t missed an assembly yet, have you?  Ugh.  You and Sammy.  Two dorks of a feather.  Come on, I’ll take you back, then.”  He starts the car and begins to pull out of the parking lot. 

 

     “No, it’s fine,” Cas says abruptly.  “We don’t have to go back.  I’ll ditch too.”

 

     Dean looks over at him then, both eyebrows raised.  “…Didn’t think you were into that sort of thing, Cas.  What’re the teachers gonna say?” 

 

     Cas shrugs, going for nonchalance, and sneaks out a fry from his bag.  “Here’s the thing about being a goody-two-shoes nerd, Dean – I’ve got a lot of good credit.  I could probably get away with ditching for a week if I told the teachers I’d make up the work.” 

 

     After another moment of staring – a moment that lasts almost long enough that Cas feels nervous about Dean’s ability to watch the road – Dean finally looks away, but not before Cas sees  _ that grin _ , the real one, the one that makes Cas’s heart almost stop and fills him with a warm glow.

 

     “Let’s drive around a while then, yeah?  I like just cruising around on the road.  Getting this car was the best thing that’s happened to me,” Dean’s saying, reaching over to give Cas’s shoulder a squeeze before stealing some of his fries from the open bag. 

 

     “Um.  Yes, that sounds – fine.  I don’t have anywhere to be anymore.”  Cas mentally curses his inability to make natural conversation, but Dean laughs comfortably and starts talking about some movie Cas has never seen.  Cas settles in to listen and chime in where he can, setting aside for later his utter joy at managing to get in this situation at last. 

 

     He also plans to consider, later, how much Dean seems to like touching.  Cas supposes that he’s just a naturally hands-on kind of guy, and thinks Dean would probably like getting touched back.  Cas thinks he’d be happy to oblige.


End file.
